Green Flame Rising (Exalted vs Dresden Files)

[DragonParadox]

In the Flash of a Demon's Eye​

13th of January 2007 A.D.

"I do have some preparations to make, but yes, that would be helpful, thank you. On campus, say, at 12 noon?" "Not immediately?" comes the reply "I could be at UNLV in forty minutes." Your lips purse involuntarily as you momentarily debate how much to share. "There was an older member of the Black Court in Las Vegas earlier tonight." There's a part of you that's itching to take advantage of the hours of the night, but alas it's hard to ignore one's side being more meat soup than ribs and sending Harry on his own... no, that just feels like too much of a risk with Tommy's gunmen wandering around like homing missiles.

"Yes, I shall have the elixir of memory prepared," Harrowmont answers shaken, but not as horrified as you thought he would be. Black Court vampires are rare these days, you remind yourself, and their elders rarer.

"There is no need, we have our own ways..." It is only at this point, the insights of Essence having just faded from your mind that you realize he might tale it ill. "It would be best if you are rested on the morrow, that you might make use of all your skills to aid in the investigation."

"Understood," there's an edge of frustration to the word, but not aimed squarely at you. "See you then. I'll have her schedule and I'll phone around to some of my colleagues to see if I can find out more about the odd reactions in other students."

After bidding Harrowmont farewell, though not good night, he's certainly not going back to bed, you focus your mind on the conversation that had just passed and pull from the strands of fate, such as they might be the names of Sandra's social group. Eight of them, on their own they mean nothing, but as she had done many times before Clippy starts to cross-reference

A while later just as you are finishing off your part of the 'Deluxe Buffet': Beef Tenderloin with supposedly wild mushroom sauce the report comes in, coldly succinct despite the troubling subject matter:

Jacob Cole, Jaida Porter, Kate House, analyses inconclusive.

Conclusion: 35.55% estimated probability theory: social camouflage.

Frankie Lewis, Ollie Black, Harriet Lane, Brooke Turner, all showing signs of anomalous online activity, sleep deprivation evident in images posted over the last three to five months, sudden dietary shifts, presence of occult of mixed and disordered type, breaking/fraying of existing social bonds, refusal to take apart in recreational/social events. Hobbies in common: photography 3 of 4, Animation 2 of 4, Music 4 of 4 (Note, distinction in music genre in relation to human social aggregation outside of present skill parameters). Fields of study in common philosophy 3 of 4, biology 2 of 4, chemistry 4 of 4.

Conclusion: 64.66% estimated probability that they have been instrumentalized as part of a cult/cabal,

Lost 1 Essence (Crown Question) -> Now at 6/15
Regained 6 Essence (CSR) -> Now at 12/15
Healed 2 Wound -> Now at 9/15

Still too earely to call, 03:45, too earely by far. Silk should be in, but you agree with Tiffany that it would be unwise to speak to her over the phone when she is a Red Court asset. "They are very close to the core of the onion... bomb... the exploding onion," you explain to Lydia waving around your fork. Maybe I am still a bit hungry, you admit, wondering if there is anymore of that Crème Brulee. It's not really something one can notice living at home with three square meals a day, but hunger doesn't quite feel like it used to. It comes all at once like a freight train pulling into the station whenever you have downtime between doing stuff.

"Well Mr Adkin's asleep and so's Warden Dresden after laying down some wards," your friend explains. "I think—" a yawn foreshadows her next words. "I'll turn in too."

The night passes uneventfully, until at last around seven you start to see the sun lightening though the high bathroom windows

You Regain All Essence -> Now at 15/15 (CSR and Dawn)
Healed 3 Wound -> Now at 12/15 -> Wound Penalty Removed
Lash Regains Faith -> Now at 3/3

Which group of Sandra's friends do you call?

[] The inconclusive group
-[] Write in stunt (optional)

[] The potential asset/cult group
-[] Write in stunt (optional)

[] Write in

OOC: Well you did not get attacked overnight, good for you.

 

[DragonParadox]

Oportune Obstruction ​

13th of January 2007 A.D.

The coffee tasted sour and metallic the way it always did when it was pissed out of a metal spigot, but Andrea Von Trier was a professional, she would as she had done these past three centuries persevere. More than that she would smile, men in power always reacted to a woman's smile, even an old woman, one who in another age might have been called a hag. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice Senator, especially considering the unique considerations of my organization."

Larry Cockrell the Third nodded and harrumphed at the same time, giving the impression of nothing so much as an very well endowed bullfrog overseeing his pond. "Well, you said you knew what it was."

"Your 'green flash' or what did the Daedalus people call it 'intermittent psycho-luminescent signal'? For people so dubious of the arcane and esoteric they certainly have a love of esoteric vocabulary..."

Time rippled before her like a curtain woven from ten thousand threads rippling in a gale. Once it had been the vision of madness and damnation, the world tearing apart before her gaze, but that day was long past, that girl was gone, sure as if she had been buried with her brothers in the cold Rheinlander soil, here and how she could pluck from three one, the approach that would gain her the most success.

Honesty, how unusual. "It was a soul, specifically it was a soul so engorged with inner fire that it manifested as light, given what the recordings show, it was a reflexive reaction to the attack, like shielding your face with your arm, though considerably more effective."

"And the rest of it, this magical cloaking" He pronounced it almost like 'clucking', though fortunately Andrea had heard her fair share of entertaining New World accents not to laugh at this one.

"The girl did not wish to cause a panic, more of a one than was already happening at least. And yes, I know what you are about to ask, she likely removed the perpetrators from the scene. It does not at this point look like any government assets are under threat..."

"But they might be," he interrupted picking up a long spiraled pasty of a kind unusual to see in such briefing rooms, perhaps provided by the senator's staff for just this kind of culinary conducting. Really the man could do well in theater, which Andrea guessed did also make for a good politician. "She could just walk into Nelis Air Force Base."

"And the cameras there would catch her just as these have," Andrea pointed out calmly.

"Well in coordination with one of those cyber-strikes we wouldn't have any cameras now would we?" he pressed, pasty still swinging.

"Yes if this young woman in a cowboy costume in Vegas had the means to organize a major cyber attack that would be quite troubling. There is no indication that she can or indeed that she is so inclined. In fact that we seem to be looking at here is gang violence, pure and simple. Perhaps before sending in other operatives it would be prudent to simply put out a warrant on the two men with the shoulder mounted weapons. I suspect the police will find them alive and none the worst for wear..." Or they will find those people never existed, or that they have been declared dead years ago, the important part was not to send those cretins from Daedalus into a powder keg that now had a Freeholding Lord in all but name smack dab in the middle of it, Andrea thought inwardly. "More to the point I do not think it is wise to do equipment field testing in a city that has already seen a major incident. Senator if I may be blunt how do you think someone who has lived their whole lives under a veil of secrecy and who has the power to deflect rockets with a hand weapon would react to a successful test of this...'Franklin' Esper Detector?"

"You just said she was not a threat!" Senator Cockrell huffed back.

"I just said she did not mean to cause a panic, that is not the same thing as saying she would react peacefully to an attempt to expose her and anyone else veiling over the entire city. The US Government has never deployed such technology, the natural disinclination of those spiritually aware not to draw negative attention from the authorities would do little in this case. Doctor Jeffiries has compared this thing to sonar yes, like was used to hunt submarines? How do you think sapient and armed whales would react to a sonar pulse going on near them?"

At that the Senator seemed to deflate slightly. "Very well we will postpone the test, but I expect an account about what the Devil is going on in Vegas from your colleagues and from Project Daedalus."

"Understood," Andrea replied. Fortunately creative writing was one of her strong suits.

OOC: You guys got pretty lucky on this one.

 

[DragonParadox]

That Masks May Ring Like Bells ​

13th of January 2007 A.D.

"Hello? Hello?" you speak into the phone, a tone of voice perfectly suited for a young and eager to please intern with their eyes on the dream job ahead - something a fellow college age student can sympathize with. "Is this Jacob Cole? My name is Maggie, of Five Score Fellowship, and I am calling you about Sandra Marling. Could you give me several minutes? You see, by luck of the draw, she became a candidate for our scholarship grant, and I need to make a detailed character profile of her for my bosses. I understand you are her friend, so would you mind helping?"

Lost 3 Essence -> Now at 12/15 (All Things; Betray Empathy; Excellency Etiquette Excellency)

"Oh yeah... she's great, takes some getting used to but she's got some big ideas, ideas that'll change the world really. I don't think she's interested in a scholarship though, I think she's rich or something, she's been talking about traveling the world to spread... to find herself and help other people find themselves too. She's great. Really giving, people should be more like her. So about that scholarship, how do you get in the draw?"

The more you talk to the guy on the other end the less natural his mannerisms feel. On the one hand he keeps trying to steer you to some other topic or get you to hang up, but as you continue to steer him back towards Sandra you find the same ideas, the same phrases really repeated over and over. There's a name for that, thought stopping techniques. Generally used by cults to keep control by weeding out inner doubts, they are not usually this blunt...

"You need to chill out, Sandra'd be the first one to tell you, there's more important things in life than money and power and all that shit. It's all a rat race and it's not even other rats that run the race. It's cats. You know cats? I used to have one, but then I figured out he only behaved 'cause I'm so much bigger than him, but he's like a tiger that lives in your house. I don't have a cat anymore."

"Jacob," you ask gently, like you are talking to a child, "what happened to your cat?"

"I don't have a cat anymore," he repeats.

"Why?" you press, injecting a bit more authority into your tone.

"He was mean and he scared me and... and... I don't have a cat anymore." It feels like you are breaking though something, cracking the carefully preserved mask he still presents to the everyday world to find something broken and hollow.

"Did Sandra have something to do with that?"

"No! No! I did it! I did it!" he shouts in your ear.

"Did Sandra tell you to do it?" Repetition seems to be the key to keeping him talking, you are keenly aware of the fact that he is one button away from ending the call and probably informing Sandra that someone was asking after her, but you want to get to the bottom of this, you have to.

"No, no, she only does good things, I figured it out on my own, on by own," he half-babbles.

"So it was a bad thing then, a mistake," you say slowly, like you are thinking deeply on the matter. "Jacob what was the name of your cat?"

"Cheshire," something seems to tear behind his voice and he starts sobbing. There's nothing more you can do over the phone you realize. Maybe there's nothing more you can do even in person.

Regretfully you say goodbye, not that Jacob can understand you and end the call. The next number on the list, Jaida Porter just leaves you hanging, she won't take a hidden number call maybe, at least you dearly hope it's something innocent like that. Kate House however does answer and this time you do not ask about Sandra, not directly.

"Hello, Mrs Porter Maggie, of Five Score Fellowship and we'd like to ask about one of your colleagues who was lucky enough to win a draw with us, a Mr Cole, Jacob Cole..."

From the first word of her answer you realize you'd guessed right. Conditioning someone into a fine thrall who acts outwardly normal is hard enough, making it so they can't betray their master is harder still, plugging up all the connections well that is already too complex to bother with, at least that is what Sandra thinks. And it's going to cost her, you vow.

Jacob you find out comes from a wealthy family, but he is interested in stepping out of his father's shadow, or at least he used to. His father had passed away last October and he's been dealing with a lot of 'family stuff' since then. Kate a plenty of times when he had skipped school and one instance of him withdrawing a lot of cash for something.

You very carefully do not ask what or who for as you are starting to get the shape of things. Jacob with his technically millionaire parents and recent inheritance is the piggy bank of the group. That certainly puts his insistence that she's independently wealthy in a new light. As you get to chatting with Kate over her breakfast you get the sense that she really enjoys it, one would not go so far as to call her a gossip, but... she knows everything that's going on in UNLV and not just on the mundane side. She knows there are beautiful people you do not want to hang out with and that there are some places where it is very important to watch your drink so as not to get hooked. After about half an hour of maneuvering you are pretty sure Sandra herself is the source of much of the information which does make a kind of sense, after all Jacob was talking about things which hint at the true shape of the city, but why?

Something to chew on later, for now you ask about the final four starting with Frankie Lewis.

"Oh Frankie's the life of the party, but you know not really scholarship material. I think school might be a bit much for him to be honest," Kate goes off and all you have to do is make the odd approving hmm... There's a lot of actually funny stories like the time he has set the flag in the quad on fire with unsanctioned fireworks tried to buy a new one and got the flag of Liberia instead, no one had noticed until morning or the time he had gotten the entire football team to use shampoo spiked with photo-reactive pigment that made their hair progressively more green. Though unsurprisingly he had been pranking people less of late. 'Some people' said he was dealing, though Kate of course did not believes them. Interestingly she also tells you that when he does his brewing on school property he usually does so in the old disaffected boiler room which campus legend claims is haunted.

The other three do not get as much of a reaction, loners, she is too polite to say 'weirdos'... and then she realizes she's been talking to you for almost an hour.

Regained 3 Essence -> Now at 15/15 (CSR)
Healed 1 Wound -> Now at 13/15

You have to end the call yourself when mom calls to ask if you are OK, she had seen the news. To that you answer that yes there had been an ambush, no you had not gotten hurt, all of you were in a hotel now ready to continue the investigation now that you had rested. It's not technically a lie, you had not gotten hurt in the ambush, you'd been stabbed by an Ancient Egyptian Idol that contained the key to a prehistoric super-weapon, completely different.

Lost 1 Essence -> Now at 14/15 (Subterfuge Excellency)

What do you do next?

[] Stay on the phones, you still have a bit of healing to do
-[] Keep talking to Sandra's 'friends'

[] Go out
-[] Talk to Silk at the Xanadu
-[] It's risky, but maybe you shoudl check in Jacob

OOC: As a reminder, the time in 09:45, you still have a bit until the meeting you set the the bibliomancer.

 

[DragonParadox]

Venom for a New Age ​

13th of January 2007 A.D.

The charity of Ishtar is not something you can easily guess at, but recalling Arlene throwing herself at Tommy maybe she will help Jacob, it's not like the poor guy has anything left to lose. She picks up instantly, worry plain to hear in her words: "What? What's happened?"It takes a few minutes to take her from a siege mentality to thinking about long term assets, the Hanging Gardens is closed until the end of next week as Arlene pulls her people back from operating in the wake of Vegas seeming to go from cold war into hot, but in the end she agrees to look into it and that is the best you can hope for.

You get back to your phone and decide to start with Frankie.

"Who's this?" the voice on the other end is sharp, anger and suspicion mixing dangerously under the surface. She is not going to be buying your grant giver persona or even if she does she's not going to give a hoot.

So you are now Margret Richmond, owner of an up coming biotech company Green Star Pharmaceuticals, interested in recruiting graduates in the field, Frankie a senior reciprocates at least enough not to shut you down, though he seems to find the conversation more funny than intriguing, making time by asking about all sorts of perks and benefits culminating with 'so the company's going to cover my legal fees if it comes to it right, seeing as I'd be such a valued employee'. You can just imagine him as the wiseass who got his kicks in high school by winding up teachers then making detention seem cool.

That is not to say you do not get anything useful out of him, apparently his favorite course is organic chemistry and also he has opinions, rather strong ones: "People like to say we're made of star-dust, but really we are more like sludge, a human is more like pond scum than diamonds, the diamonds are pure carbon but we have all those tangled up molecules rubbing up against each other, burning breaking, gobbling up more stuff just to keep ourselves going a little further. Really that's what pills are too isn't it, very specialized sludge so we can keep on trucking just that little bit longer before we collapse in on ourselves and they pump us full of poisons and they prop us in a box for everyone to see. It's lies and fake pictures all the way down. Tell me is the money worth it? Does it make you feel better to have them and count them when all you are doing is selling bespoke sludge, making time until you are rotten meat seasoned with chemicals in a sealed box?"

A convert not a puppet, you realize, and a thousand times more dangerous for it. To Frankie Lewis the human condition is a bad joke and all that's left to man is to make one of his own to improve upon it.

Restored 1 Essence -> Now at 15/15 (CSR)

"Ah, I see you have been putting those philosophy courses to good use," you put in in a slightly sardonic tone sure to needle him into continuing.

"So where are you phoning from, one of those fancy spa resorts where they promise to open your chakras unburden your soul? You are not in Vegas are you?"

"No." He seems to be expecting some response so you give it to him.

"Well then keep your eyes on the old TV," he stretches it out to 'tee vee'. "It's about to get real, really really real." The line goes dead.

What did he mean? you, look near and far through eyes of flame. Reliable as ever the answer comes and it turns your blood to ice:

He speaks of an attack with Verminous Agent X aimed at the Club Xanadu this morning

Images of panicked men and women rushing into the street, falling over each other buffet your mind.... Sirens blaring, a news helicopter overhead... a maddened shape misshapen and rubbery, all too hideously real, a dying vampire of the Red Court ripping its way though emergency personnel, trying to guzzle down blood from torn necks then collapsing in the sun to burn. The sun, higher in the sky than it it now, but not by much, thirty, forty minutes maybe.

Lost 1 Essence -> Now at 14/15 (Crown Question)
Healed 1 Wound -> Now at 14/15

What do you do?

[] Phone Silk to evacuate the club right now

[] Go there with the others, you need to stop the attackers, otherwise you will have Old One cultists with bloody nerve agents loose in Vegas and no idea where they will go next

[] Write in

OOC: For anyone wondering why your Crown used the full name of VX all things Infernal tend to the dramatic.

 

[DragonParadox]

Of Silk and Satin ​

13th of January 2007 A.D.

"Guys, we are going out." it is startling how normal those words sound, like one of those cheesy 80s action flicks, and of course the bad guy is someone you had once called a friend. "There's going to be a nerve gas attack on Club Xanadu in 30-40 minutes, it's hard to tell more by the position of the sun in my vision. I could stealth in there using the water lines, but I only have two hands to work with." The sound of fabric being pulled forcefully and zippers hissing closed fills the bathroom, you do not bother to towel off.

"And that," Tiffany proclaims in like tone from the other side of the doom. "Is what Marling is counting on. She has to know what she is up against and I know she can't take you head on in a fight. One of my more martial former associates would struggle to do so and the rest of us make it a losing bet. This is a distraction."

"Someone cooked up bathtub VX, they were planning for it," you counter as you walk into the lounge. "Clippy, pull out the previous caller's records, anything, everything you can get."

"Proceeding," she replies with the calm of someone who does not have to worry about pesky organophosphates in the least.

Lash looks thoughtful though when you look at her in askance she raises a hand for time.

"I'm going to call Silk, if it's something that helps with that..."

"The Red Court thrall?" Harry asks alarmed, well more alarmed, the poor man turned green the moment you mentioned VX not that you can blame him.

"It's her club she has to be warmed, she's the only one who can clear people out of there," you counter, more confidently than you feel as for the first time in a while you put in the number yourself on instinct. Essence burns that will not be restored.

"Hello?" the sound of Rhianna's SOS. blares through the phone so loud you can barely hear the voice on the other end, the very suspicious voice. Too bad you're about to give her more of a reason for suspicion.

Lost 3 Essence -> Now at 11/15

"Silk, is this Silk?" you pause just long enough to get a confirmation. "I am going to to need you to listen to me very carefully, someone is about to stage an attack on the Xanadu, they have chemical weapons and the means to spread them. You have thirty, maybe forty minutes to get people out of there..."

"Who is that mi querida?" a man's voice speaks very close to the phone, there is a sound of rustling cloth, satin or silk. Only then does it occur to you that you might not have interrupted a dance.

"I don't know Alfredo," Silk answers quietly.

Under other circumstances the sudden realization that you had just interrupted someone having sex with one of the Red Court would have derailed your line of thinking entirely and maybe your next meal in the bargain, but there is no time.

"How do you know?" she presses urgently.

"Someone got cocky and talked," technically correct, the best kind of correct when one has a vampire listening in, keep it secret, keep it straightforward. "A madman, of course they are all mad to do this, but it goes deeper, deep as it can go, service to the Old Ones."

From the half angry-half terrified stream of curse words that follows she knows what you mean.

"We're here to help," you cut her off, all too aware that this is taking time as Mr Adkin and Mutt walk into the room and get an update from Lydia.

"Who's we?" the vampire, Alfredo calls out, a question that's a lot more fought for who's asking it.

What do you reply?

[] Warden Dresden and Company
Lean on the reputation of the White Council for being enemies of Outsiders in spite of the present war

[] Molly Carpenter and Company
Use your own reputation, whatever that might be to the Red Court

[] The Winter Lady sent us
Maeve did send a bunch of messages and if this guy knows Winter's purpose that should explain things very clearely

[] Write in

As you leave who do you take with you?

[] Oliver Adkin
Something tells you he is not much good in a fight but you can't leave him here alone

[] Mutt
He's ready and willing to help, who are you to say no

[] Neither
Leave them here to hold down the fort, even if it's just a hotel room

[] Both
It's all hands on deck for this one

OOC: Lash's realization will be next update, she just barely made combined 10 successes on two rolls so she has to think about this for a bit

 

[DragonParadox]

A Moment Catalyzed​

13th of January 2007 A.D.

"My name is Molly Carpenter I'm here with friends," you say even as you wonder how much had filtered down about the death of Duchess Arianna. Plane's gone, but there are other signs not so easily removed.

The answer comes as a muffled yowl. He's definitely heard of you. "Tell her to stay away, we will see to our own business," the vampire's voice is far less smooth and controlled, not pride but fear and anger mixing into a dangerous cocktail. Though before you can, politely, tell him to take a darn chill pill Silk surprises you.

"Are you crazy? The have chemical weapons! I don't care who that is we do need the help, I need the help, if you need to go that's up to you."

"You need me cara mia," the endearment is made a bare clawed threat, perhaps more so than Alfredo meant to since if anything it seems to galvanize the sorceress.

Again you hear the sound of rustling cloth then half-plea and half-command: "Get dressed! Go! We will talk later when there aren't lunatics coming to gas my club!" By chance the music turns to Me, Myself and I, a good omen, you choose to take it as.

"Alright, alright, he's going. Listen I don't want any part of any fight with the court. Whatever feud you have with them that's not how things are done in Vegas."

Alas something tells you Alfredo Marcel had not just conveniently existed stage left, he's gone to call his bosses and all-but-sure to come back with reinforcements. You want to tell her to to stop him or go after him, but, as Usum reminds you, there is no way of knowing how far her defiance might stretch. "We need a discreet way into the club," you say instead as Harry motions for Mr Adkin and Mutt to follow you, he might have had the same thought you did about how vulnerable they'd be at the hotel.

"There's a side door, we use it for deliveries," she goes on to give you directions, clear and concise thankfully. "I'm going to start clearing people out now. See you soon I hope."

"Good luck," you wish her as you put Clippy back in your purse.

For her part Tiffany had obviously been waiting for you to finish, she speaks up at once: "They are using alchemy to make the VX, I'm almost positive. Get some Bensulide for fighting crab grass or some other legal organophosphate, then if you'd need just a dash of the good stuff as a seed for the transmutation. It doesn't even have to hold past sunrise, by then the deed will be long since done."

"Hold on there, how come I never heard of this before?" Harry asks, sounding like he wishes she's wrong for obvious reasons.

"Because Warden Dresden, no one has brewed with such poisons before," Mr. Adkin interjects, a humorlessness smile cutting across his aged face. "The intersection of magic and mundane technology is always moving apace with the latter. In the brief span of my years alone I have seen much be discovered, this would be just another dreadful revelation to mark the dawn of the twenty first century."

Tiffany nods silently even as she reaches for Harry's hand, closing her eyes in the process: "There, you're immune to VX. I can cure the stuff once someone's been exposed with much less effort and you can keep the aerosols off with magic."

Tiffany Loses 1 Faith -> Now at 1/3 (Manipulate Flesh)
Harry gains immunity to VX

While she's working her magic, or you guess her miracles, you have one more call to make, to the Library with news of what's going on. This is going to take one deep cover-up.

"I'll... I'll patch you through..." Whatever agent's responsible for keeping contact can't be that inexperienced, though they obviously haven't experienced this kind of thing. Two increasingly calm and collected connections later you hear the familiar voice of Andrea von Trier, the subtle buzzing of her presence is now just on the edge of hearing, coming though your headphones.

"Do you need backup?" she gets right to the point. "Our arcane resources are far less puissant than those of the White Council, but we know how to work in the system. I can get you a pair of federal agents to open doors and close eyes or I could direct federal and law enforcement in Nevada Las Vegas to bring down the hammer where you indicate as an anti-terror operation, though that would bring a great deal more attention to the situation politically."

What do you reply

[] A couple of discrete agents to smooth things over would be helpful

[] Sometimes it's good to have the cavalry in your back poket, put everyone on high alert

[] Thank her for the offer but this will be easier to handle with a small team

[] Write in

OOC: I initially thought Control Body could just give you guys immunity, but from a closer read of the text the immunity from that comes only after exposure and healing, lasting for the rest of the scene and Lash does not have VX on her.

 

[DragonParadox]

Out with a Bang​

13th of January 2007 A.D.

"Thank you for the offer, really, but we mostly just need this buried, they have already brought military grade weapons and now nerve gas. Who knows where this goes? Regardless it is going to need an explanation."

"Several," comes the dry counter from the other end. "One for the public one for the more informed elements of the body politic, one for the generals, one for Daedalus," the word is just shy of open scorn, but that is about the most that can be said of it. "God be with you Ms Carpenter." It sounds more like 'Gott', her accent thickening a little, the only sign of strain you had caught from her, that and the words themselves, you get the sense that this is a woman who does not call on Divine Providence very often.

"And with you," you answer as the wheels of your rented van screech on roads moistened not by rain but, knowing this city even from brief acquaintance, by some kind of show or gimmick. Vegas in the late morning light seems tired and overexposed, like a movie from the seventies, a documentary of sin instead of the frantic heart of the act.

Despite this the Xanadu's golden dome stands out, embracing the morning instead of trying to outshine it, little wonder that it is one of the most busy clubs at this hour. Maybe that is all Sandra and her death cult are looking for, bodies to stack high. The side door Silk had mentioned is there, a little scuffed and peeling but unlocked. As the beats of a unfamiliar wordless song washed over you a worried bouncer lets you in, amusingly enough more confused at the 'old woman' than at any of the rest of you. Beyond lies what your mother might perhaps call a den of iniquity and not without some cause: soft velvet and honey-hued marble all focused inwards on poles of faux gold. Dancers in various states of undress are trying to make their way out though the crowd of men without being groped too much as the bouncers, including the fellow who let you in try to keep order. A light haze of smoke hangs over it all, not from tobacco, you can tell at a whiff "Silk said to tell you she's in the Eros room, big one down the corridor, to the left," he instructs you as he pushes a guy in a bright yellow fedora back.

Tiffany rolls her eyes at the name, though she doesn't let that distract her long. "Eyes on the prize," she whispers to a blushing Lydia who had found a sudden interest in the ground. "There's worse things to see than a bit of skin.". As if on cue a trio of people in full latex gimp suits turn a corner only to get into a shoving match with what look like a pair of dishevled and discombobulated buisnessmen.

From up ahead you hear "Randal, you said this place was classy, first time here and they are having an evacuation for who knows who to see us. Mother was right I never should have married you!"

That is enough to raise a warm flush to your cheeks. Under other circumstances you might even have laughed at Harry muttering to himself: "Charity's gonna kill me."

You make it to the large obviously gilded doors of 'the Eros room', so named you assumed for the various statues of Greek gods and heroes in explicit postures. Things are more orderly here as a tall woman in a glittering purple dress gently prods the last stragglers of what must have been a large crowd towards the main entrance you had seen in the Crown-granted vision. One of the staff is trying to roll a large cake on a trolly whose precise purpose you would rather not contemplate in your direction blocking your view for a moment.

The next thing you know is Lash yelling: "Grenade!"

In a flash you are over the trolly, cake and server to see half a dozen of the damn things rolling in every direction. You recognize the wils eyed girl holding some kind of improvised rope aparatus as Jaida, one of the of the Sandra 'friends' you could not reach. She's shouting something about 'the end' but you are not paying attention to her compared to the half a dozen balls of death rolling around on the slick floor of the club.

At your back you can feel the impetus of Harry's magic gathering, but it's anyone's guess how much of the blast he'll be able to comtain.

What do you do?

[] Use Mind Hand Manipulation to crush as many of the grenades as you can before they go off (DEX+Melee to get as many as you can in time One base +1 for each success)

[] Hold your action, if they are throwing grenades this is going down and there's worse than high explosive in the works

[] Write in

OOC: Welp, showtime.

 

[DragonParadox]

Fear and Loathing ​

13th of January 2007 A.D.

As you sail though the air a words flow though your mind, a verse from some ling forgotten poem:

The spark of creation sets the fires of ruin
As the sundering chaos is creation's sin

No sooner had you landed on the other side that you push: tools from the air, tendrils unseen to rip from chaos-to-be-order. From the outside it must have looked like some mad melange of a explosion in an industrial parts factory and the fingers of an fingers of an alien giant reaching in to briefly touch this reality. Each grenade is thus neatly sliced just below the firing pin, then pitted like a cherry. Snapping together in front of you they are transmuted into something like an alien useless box formed; a switch that did nothing but flip itself off formed from firing pins, would be shrapnel, and strips of casing.

Lost 2 Essence and 1 Willpower -> Now at 9/15 Essence and 8/9 Willpower (MHM Crafting Excellency and TTC)

"No!" the word snaps out without thought, more like you are disciplining a dog than a would be mass murderer.

"Forzare!" Harry's blast of force that moments before would have swept up most of the grenades now still has the power to push a befuddled Jaida off her feet and pin her against the wall by the door.

Silk watches in wide eyed shock that turns to horror when the server who had pushed the cake in front of you pulls out a handgun and shouts: "Die, leech's whore!"

It's not a burst of gunfire that follows but instead a clang of flying plates as Lydia pulls the trolley up like a Roman shield then flings it at the guy, pinning him under the wheels and knocking the gun from his hands.

"What the fuck, Larry!" Silk shouts. Something silver glitters in her hand, like a treasure seen under deep water flashes in her hand, half formed magic like a heady scent upon the air still mercifully unrealized. The last handful of guests are panicking, running for the front doors, they had not seen or maybe had not registered the grenades, but the gun was obvious enough, one drops what looks like black gym bag in his haste...

Deliberate. The eyes all around, your eyes see at once the material and though the material, there is more explosive in that bag than in all six of those grenades put together. It sparks and sputters, some kind of half-baked chemical reaction that scorches the velvet underfoot and strips the knee of one statue bare of faux gold.

"It's coming! It's coming!" Larry laughts maniacally and in that moment you hear the least welcome sound you could have, the fire alarm going off in the corridor behind where Lash and Harry are still standing.

If it had not been for the fight the people there would likely have already made it out and to safety, as is there are maybe eight more people there including the arguing couple, far from the mass casualty event Sandra might have planned for but still eight people too many.

What do you do?

[] Pull everyone out telekinetically, Tiffany can heal them if they have been exposed (Automatic success; some people will be exposed; you will have to explain the magical healig)

[] Try to break the sprinklers or the pipes leading to them before any of the VX and be spread (Perception+Technology roll to figure out what to tear up in time)

[] Write

OOC: A bit of a short update, but such is combat.

 

[DragonParadox]

Damage Control​

13th of January 2007 A.D.

Eight people in various states and styles of dress come flying out of the corridor with exclamations of horror as the sprinklers come on, screaming, shouting in an unintelligible din as you set them down flat on their backs, careful not to get the stuff from one of the other. "What's the meaning of...! Stop! Help Help!"From them perspective they are being drawn into danger and not away from a shower of poison. Why so many ways to kill, why here?

"Lash, over here!" you shout. Some of them are already twitching in your grasp. That does not make them any calmer nor does carry's cry of "Defendarius!" staff out for all to see, the runes spiraling along its length glowing a ghostly blue as the air in the corridor thickens into a shimmering curtain like the distant haze on a summer day brought up close.

"Everyone keep calm!" Silk interjects somehow striking a perfect balance of urgency without being alarming. "We will be exiting the club in a moment. My associate just needs to look you over to make sure you aren't hurt."

Tiffany had taken the chance to grab hold of a shaky hand and an even shakier bare shoulder, briefly closing her eyes against the distractions of the scene. A few seconds pass in a storm of panicked questions and complaints.

An uncanny stillness fills the air, a sterile peace threaded with silver. Larry isn't laughing any more, the woman with the grenades is crying, great tearing sobs. The guy with the exploding bag is also not saying anything, though that has more to do with Lydia expertly choking him out.

Lydia loses 1 Essence -> Now at 5/7

"What? Woah!" A man whom you recognize as the husband from a few moments ago exclaims and gives Tiffany what you can only call a love-struck. That's not going to help his marital prospects. Somewhere in the back of your mind a demon laughs.

"Wha' haphened," a woman, one of the employees most likely slurs, her face and eyes starting to droop. She calms down as Tiffany reassures her as she reaches out to touch her face and literally wipe away the chemical agent as she bestows healing and protection all at once.... though the same could not be said of everyone else, if anything the questions have gotten louder.

"Stacy you just sit tight OK," Silk half whispers at the dancer before raising her voice again. "Everyone! Everyone listen to me, there's just been an attack. Anyone who wants to talk to the authorities is free to take a seat, anyone who doesn't should probably get going now. Consider all services and goods aquired today and last night on the house."

How that is what finally calms everyone down you will never know, but at this point you'll take it.

One of the guys in rumpled suits points a non-chemically-induced shaky finger at Harry. "I wanna know what the hell you're doing here mister!"

Door opens outwards so you kick it closed with a very definitive thump. "Nothing. Nothing to see here."

He does not speak up again. Alas that is the least of your problem. While three of the witnesses are edging towards the door to follow Silk's advice that still leaves you with six witnesses and three attackers in states from shock to hysteria to unconciousness with some kind of police response no doubt on their way. While you had warned the Library to prep a cover up it's doubtful that will extend to letting you walk off with the perpetrators to interrogate.

What do you do?

[] Wait for the feds and try to negotiate a solution that ends with the domestic terrorists in custody and you with your answers from a few minutes of questioning

[] Grab the cultists and pass them to Sanctuary as soon as you are out of sight and earshot

[] Write in

OOC: Crises over, lets see about the aftermath.

 

[DragonParadox]

Calling Friends and Pinging Foes ​

13th of January 2007 A.D.

Taking stock of your circumstances you find them unpleasant in detail —being at the site of a terrorist attack with merge gas surrounded by witnesses and the halo of your own eye-studded aura— and in general —having to untangle the aftermath to the satisfaction of first responders with some very pointed questions. "We've got to get out of this, we've got to stop playing this game..." Drawing close to Slik you lean down and whisper: "I'm sorry, I know this is a mess, but we need to look after the one who organized this. Hopefully the people coming in are going to be a bit clued in."

She nods, only the slight quickening of her breath showing the strain beneath the unnatural calm. It's a spell, up close it's easier to recognize, an enchantment aimed inwards at herself to make herself become what her interlocutor wants or needs and right now what everyone in this room needs her to be is calm and collected.

As you pass by Harry you whisper to him as well: "Search them for anything useful..."

"This is a crime scene Molly," he says back, in like tone though with an edge of annoyance under it and you would guess no small amount of strain for keeping up the air shield. "The cops are going to want to know where that stuff is."

"I'm going to have a talk with their bosses," you counter reasonably, throttling the impulse to reach beyond more polished words, more convincing arguments. I'm going to need those motes in a bit

"And how sure are you of that on a scale of twenty to life?" he presses.

"Fine," you sigh and step away to make a call to Von Trier: "Gonna need EOD to enter and decontaminate the premises, and maybe a evacuation of the neighborhood, but no one's dead. We are going to have to go, otherwise whoever comes in there is going to have to deal with a halo of eyes and a wizard's wind wall just to start with."

"Understood," there is at least a day's worth of sighs in that word, but her frustration does not seem to be aimed at you.

"There's ten witnesses including the owner of the club who is clued in, she's a sorceress and three perps on the premises: one of them's unconscious, the other two appear to be in shock. No idea if they are in their right mind or enthralled..."

"Irrelevant," she cuts in coolly. "Ms Carpenter it speaks well of you to want to make the distinction, but no court in the land if going to allow for the mitigating circumstance of witchcraft. Quite frankly given the sheer difficulty of removing even the most amateurish of binding magics, which one would assume these are not, the point is moot to begin with."

Though your first impulse is to mention Arlene you are keenly aware she does not want the eye of the federal government in any incarnation. Could Tiffany unwind mind magics as the price of a pact? Maybe, probably, but that would raise questions she most likely does not want to asked. The entire southwestern US and large parts of Mexico could turn into the Sahara 2.0, you remind yourself. As unfair as this might be to the handful of people who just like me may have fallen in Sandra's trap I cannot put them above the lives of millions. In that regard you're not like your father, but you can live with it.

"OK, just keep a lid on this and keep an eye on other things that may need lids. I'm not always going to have the chance to call ahead."

"Understood. Fare thee well and fortune favor you," Von Trier answers and with that.

Holding Clippy in front of your face you ask her to show you Sandra and with one final look at the face of your foe you ask: "Where is she now?"

At the foot of the Dragon's bed waiting for her plans to unfold above.

Lost 1 Essence -> Now at 8/15

"What the fuck...?"

"Should one be skilled enough in arts of trickery Majesty the closer one is to one's foes the farther one is from harm," Usum points out, the voice of long experience speaking.

"Did... did you just quote the Two Towers?" you ask shaking your head slowly.

"Not with intent, but I must admit it was a fair cinematographic attempt, for all it s flawed philosophy," he answers with a courtier's honeyed tongue. Still demonic opinions of Tolkien and/or Peter Jackson it does make a kind of sense, the Dragon is the anchor point, the weak point of the Sin Eater and the Sin Eater is the one holding back the Gate. Simply killing him wouldn't do it, but access to an unconscious victim, one who cannot defend itself would be so much more, so much worse.

The question now is if she had tricked the Reds or suborned them? Would they fight to protect her?

What do you do?

[] Ask more questions
-[] Write in

[] Head out to deal with the Red Court
-[] Diplomatically, try to explain who they have in their midst
-[] Violently, the city could use less of them regardless
-[] Stealthily, Try to sneak in

[] Write in

OOC: Since I know you guys are going to ask, just knowing where Sandra is does not constitute enough of a secret for Essence regeneration, you need more of her plan.